Final hour, last regret
by GemmaKat
Summary: Cast out of Soul Society, labeled a traitor, Sakura is just trying to survive without her powers. But Aizen is an unstoppable force, and the final battle threatens to consume them all; humans and Shinigami alike. AU. OFC. Dark themes. Potential spoilers.
1. Chapter 1

_Author's note: Hey folks! Thanks for sticking with me this far, and special thanks to people who have been in touch to chat about the series. This is it; the final piece in my crazy AU Bleach saga. I'm hoping to get this whole thing tied up in a neat little bow but we will see! It's a work in progress and I am super busy so updates will be slow. I hope you enjoy this as much as I've enjoyed writing it. _

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Sakura Takahashi trembled, her unusual violet eyes fixed on the dark shadow of the doorway. Through the bars on the window, moonlight filtered through, painting the room in shades of grey and black. Sitting on the small, hard bed, Sakura pulled the sheet up to her neck, shivering as a wisp of cold air snuck through the open doorway and sent shivers across her bare skin.

Pushing at a strand of her white hair, she couldn't look away from the dark figure standing so quietly across from her; watching. She knew this person, she was sure of it, and her heart beat frantically in remembrance of fear. Eyes widening, sweat began to bead on her forehead and her shivers increased as terror seized her.

A low chuckle filled the room, and the person in the doorway stepped out into the low light of the moon. Sakura forced down a sob as she gazed up at the tall, distinguished figure of Sosuke Aizen, the former captain of the 5th Division, and the man who had betrayed all of Soul Society.

"You thought you were free, Sakura?"

The pale woman blinked and gazed around at her surroundings. She recognised them now; she was back in her cell, in Hueco Mundo, where Aizen's fortress resided amongst the roaming Hollows. Her breath caught and she balled her hands into fists. She'd escaped here, hadn't she? Was the memory of her release all a dream? Hadn't Ishida, Kurosaki, Renji, and Rukia come to save her? That had really happened, hadn't it?

Panicked, Sakura looked down at her naked body, startled as she realised that the intricate, dark lines of the seal Aizen had forced on her were no longer there. She ran her hands along her arms, throat, and face in astonishment, amazed to find that the horrid magic was gone from her body. But, if the seal was gone, why did she feel so weak? Why couldn't she feel her own reiatsu, her spiritual pressure? Why was she still helpless?

Aizen laughed again, the sound grating along Sakura's mind like nails on a chalkboard, and she looked up at him sharply. He stepped closer, his dark brown hair glowing almost silver in the eerie light of the moon. The whole room was cast in shades of grey but his white outfit, the style of which Sakura had come to associate with the monstrous Arrancar, seemed to glow like a beacon. Aizen's pale skin almost appeared to be lit up from the inside and for a brief moment, in her terror, Sakura thought he looked like an angel of death, or maybe of vengeance; the image strengthened by the small, almost beatific, smile on his handsome face.

He came to sit on the bed beside her, and she clutched at the thin sheet desperately, wanting to hide her nakedness; wanting to shrink away from this powerful man who terrified her so completely that she could do nothing now but try to remember how to breath as her heart pounded almost painfully in her chest. Undeterred by her reaction, Aizen tilted his head as if examining an interesting specimen trapped in a glass cage and smiled softly, though his eyes were as cold as ice.

"You can't escape me, Sakura."

He reached out a hand, and Sakura shrank back, the cool wall shocking her as she pressed her bare back against it. He touched her cheek and she turned her face away, trembling. Those warm, long fingers ran along the planes of her cheekbone before sliding down to her chin, and finally coming to rest on her throat where her pulse was clearly visible beneath her pale skin.

Aizen leaned close enough for his breath to stir her hair and tickle her ear as he spoke.

"We are the same, little Sakura. You cannot hide from this."

He gripped her throat and she turned to face him, shocked and afraid, as those fingers tightened like a vice, cutting off her air.

"We are the same." He hissed, his voice seeming to emanate unnaturally through the room. "There can be no escape for you, _majo_." Gripping her throat tighter, ignoring her struggling, Aizen pressed his lips to hers in a kiss that silenced her choking cries.


	2. Chapter 2

Sakura awoke with a gasp, hands on her throat, still feeling those phantom fingers crushing her windpipe. Frantic, she pushed at the sleeves of her nightshirt, exposing her bare arms, and felt relief for the first time as her eyes took in the ugly marks of her seal. Willing her heart to slow, she gazed around, her eyes adjusting to the darkness. Across the sparse room, she could just make out the sleeping form of Lisa Yadomaru, her black braided hair standing out against the pale sheets, even in the darkness.

Pulling her knees up to her chest, Sakura bowed her head and focused on slowing her breathing. In the four months since her escape from Aizen's clutches, Sakura had grown accustomed to nightmares. She'd been tortured in the dark cells of Aizen's prison, and by the time she had been found by the young Quincy, Uryu Ishida, she had been close to death. Orihime, who had also been imprisoned, had healed her, helped her escape, and it didn't escape her notice that, although Sakura had intended to save the young teenager with the incredible power to heal, it had been Orihime who had truly saved Sakura.

Tilting her head back, feeling the cool night air on her skin, Sakura gazed unseeing at the ceiling. Had it really been four months? Four months since her powers had been completely sealed away, leaving her as weak and useless as a human. Four months since General Yamamoto had been murdered. Four months since she'd been blamed, and an execution writ had been signed, condemning her to death. Four months since she had asked to join the Vizard.

Frowning, Sakura turned her head to gaze at the sleeping back of the stern and introverted Lisa Yadomaru. She knew that, throughout this abandoned factory, the other Vizard were sleeping. Four months ago, having realised that she'd lost everything; her powers, her father, her squad, lover, most of her friends, Sakura had desired just one thing: to regain her powers. The seal Aizen had forced on her seemed unbreakable, and yet Sakura knew that another dangerous power was available; that of the Vizard, a group of Shinigami who had created an inner Hollow that they had learned to control, and which they used to great effect in battle. Labelled traitors by Soul Society, Sakura had felt that they would help her.

And yet. . . In all the time she had been here, for all that she'd fought to be allowed to join their small and unwelcoming group, she had done nothing to achieve her original goal. She'd trained, yes. She'd gained some increase in speed and sword proficiency but, without her powers, she would last barely a minute against even a low ranking officer of the Gotei 13. If she were honest, once the physically imposing, yet quiet and calm Vizard, Hachi, had told her that her seal was impossible for even him to break, Sakura had avoided undergoing any action that might lead to her attaining an inner-hollow. She wondered now, in the quiet of the night, why. Was she afraid? She could admit to herself that she was, at least a little. Her unusual birth made her powers unpredictable, and she wasn't even sure if it were possible for her to become a Vizard.

Gazing down at her hands, turning them to trace the lines of her seal, Sakura thought back to her dream. Aizen had called her a 'majo'; a witch. It was an old word for her kind; the unpredictable offspring of spiritually gifted humans and powerful Shinigami. Their powers tended to be so violent that such unions were banned, and she'd lost her mother to the ensuing hysteria. She'd spent her whole life hating her father, the Shinigami she believed to have abandoned them, only to learn that he'd known nothing of her existence. Thinking of him now, her heart clenched painfully and she squeezed her eyes shut. She tried not to wonder if she'd ever see him again. It had been difficult forging a relationship with him, and now he had been ripped away from her. The old laws were back, and she was a wanted criminal.

Feeling suddenly restless, knowing she would not sleep again any time soon, Sakura rose from her bed and quietly slipped into some dark pants before throwing a long sleeved top over her shirt, and slipping into her shoes. Tiptoeing from the room, she stepped out into the large body of the abandoned warehouse, not even casting a glance back at where the others slept before striding softly across the wide expanse and climbing carefully out of a nearby window. Jumping easily to the ground, Sakura took a moment to lean back against the building, its side cooled by the night. She looked up at a sky heavy with clouds, which obscured the moon, though she could just make out its gentle glow, painting the clouds silver.

Sakura took a deep breath, feeling better now that she was outside. She knew this probably wasn't the best idea. If any Shinigami were out looking for her, they could more easily roam at night, but she was disturbed by her dream and memories, her body restless and discomfited. Shaking her head as if to discard these uncomfortable emotions, Sakura broke into an easy run, letting her long legs take her away from her bed and the dream that was fresh in her memory. Her chin-length, snow white hair brushed against her face as she ran. She'd cut it shortly after her escape from Hueco Mundo, and it gave a sharp look to her features. As she ran now, she was grateful for its lightness, enjoying the way the cool breeze felt on her exposed neck.

The streets of Karakura Town were quiet at this time of night. Sakura kept to the smaller roads where the lights were infrequent; otherwise uncaring as to where she was going. For a fleeting moment, she considered heading towards her old sensei's house. She hadn't seen Kisuke Urahara since the night she'd been rescued, scared that her presence would attract trouble for the man who had saved her life on more than one occasion. She knew that the crafty ex-captain was more than capable of fending off any problems that she brought to his door, but she also knew that she had caused enough pain for the people fool enough to get close to her. She would hold off on seeing him until she knew he'd be safe, and if that meant she could never see him again, then she'd add that to her growing list of regrets and steel herself to the loss.

Loss was something that Sakura was keenly aware of now. She knew she'd been arrogant, vain, reckless, and as a result she'd lost all that she'd worked towards, all that she'd held dear. The captain of her squad had renounced her upon discovering that she'd lost her powers, and Ikkaku Madarame, her senpai and lover, had been so quick to view her as a traitor. Even Yumichika Ayasegawa, who claimed he loved her, had left her in Hueco Mundo; patching up the worst of her wounds before abandoning her to her fate. Sakura's jaw clenched as she remembered the feel of his hands on her skin and shook her head, trying to dislodge the memory. Since her incarceration, a growing numbness had crept into her being, and she'd encouraged it. If she allowed herself to dwell too long on how things had been, she started to feel again, and the ache of her loss was enough to take her breath away and render her helpless.

Still running, her feet resounded softly against the pavement, her breath a steady rhythm. As much as she wanted to forget, she couldn't, not entirely. She dreamed not only of her time under Aizen's thrall but of her time at Seireitei; both good and bad. She could remember so clearly how her initial introduction had bred mistrust among the other recruits; how she had felt out of place and unable to assimilate to this new way of life. But she also remembered (and couldn't forget no matter how much she longed to) how happy she had been at times. There had been many nights of drinking and talking among friends. She thought, now, of Rangiku Matsumoto, vice-captain of the 10th division, and the first woman to befriend Sakura in many years. The tall, buxom Shinigami with the beautiful auburn hair and vibrant personality had often pulled Sakura out of herself; dragging her along to social events between some of the higher ranking officers. It was these nights that Sakura had come to know people such as Izuru Kira and Shuhei Hisagi; good men who Sakura had come to admire.

And, of course, there was Renji Abarai, the crimson-haired vice-captain of the 6th Division, and the first officer of the Gotei 13 to ever show her kindness. Sakura often thought back to the time that she had lived with Urahara, spending her days doing menial chores and her evenings training with Renji. Anything had seemed possible back then, and it had been the first time she'd allowed her heart to open to others. As a result, she'd developed strong feelings for the tall vice-captain with his striking appearance and his goofy personality.

Running a little faster, as if to escape the memory, Sakura realised that she missed him profoundly. Their parting words had not been kind, and she still regretted them, even though she knew it was better that they had nothing to do with each other. Her heart aching, she swiped angrily at her eyes where tears were beginning to form. No more of that. She'd promised herself.

Her steps were just beginning to slow when a sinking sensation made her stomach churn. Startled, nervous, Sakura came to an abrupt halt and tilted her head, as if listening to something just out of hearing. She could sense the spiritual pressure of Shinigami, and they were near by. Cursing beneath her breath, she slipped deeper into the shadows of the buildings that lined the small road and began to retrace her steps. The Vizard's hideouts were always heavily protected by Hachi's barriers, which kept their spiritual pressures completely hidden. Sakura's steps faltered and she frowned. What if she inadvertently led the Shinigami officers back to the Vizard? It had the potential to be a bloodbath, and Sakura couldn't betray either faction like that. Swearing softly, cursing herself for being so reckless, Sakura quickly changed directions and decided to find somewhere to wait out whoever was searching for her.


	3. Chapter 3

Renji Abarai stepped out into the night of Karakura Town and scowled darkly.

"This is a joke." He muttered beneath his breath, causing one of his companions to sigh heavily. Izuru Kira, acting captain of the 3rd Division, glanced at the tall vice-captain from beneath a swath of thick blonde hair that completely obscured his left eye, his melancholy face pale in the darkness.

"Abarai, the fact that you've been allowed here at all is a positive sign."

The crimson-haired officer sneered, rubbing at the nape of his neck in a gesture of annoyance, the loose sleeve of his uniform sliding down to reveal a strong arm thick with muscle and the dark lines of his tattoos.

"The fact that there's still a death sentence hanging over her doesn't strike me as a 'positive sign'."

"What did you expect? The General is dead. Soifon is a witness."

Shuhei Hisagi's thin, handsome face was stern, one hand resting on his zanpakuto as he spoke. Renji's scowl deepened.

"Captain Kuchiki has vouched for Sakura. Why isn't that enough?"

Hisagi shrugged, as if this were a stupid question.

"Seireitei is in chaos, and there has always been doubt regarding Takahashi. Even if things were not so uncertain, people would still suspect her. It's not as if she ever gave them reason not to."

Renji's eyes narrowed and he stepped towards Hisagi almost threateningly.

"You're saying it's her fault?"

Seeing an old argument about to restart, Rukia Kuchiki chose this moment to step between the two men, her petite stature seeming particularly tiny beside them.

"Enough! Renji, don't assume you know Hisagi's feelings on this matter. I don't think anyone here wants to harm Sakura."

Renji looked down at his oldest friend, her dark blue eyes wide and luminous in the low light, her pale face earnest. He sighed, and looked away, relaxing his posture.

"And if we find her?" A cool voice sounded behind the small group and they all turned to look at Yumichika Ayasegawa, the ornate feathers above his right eye trembling softly in the gentle breeze. He stood tall, looking regal in his modified Shinigami uniform, the orange collar standing out in the darkness. His face was carefully neutral, his eyes giving nothing away.

Kira, who was in charge of this search group, squared his shoulders, though his eyes were sad.

"We take her back."

"So she can be executed." Yumichika's voice was soft.

"She'll be given a trial." Hisagi responded.

Renji snorted. "We all know what the outcome will be."

Silence descended on the rag-tag group of officers, and finally Kira felt compelled to break it.

"What would you have me do? My orders were given by acting-general Sasakibe himself."

Yumichika stepped forwards, glancing briefly at Rukia and Renji before he spoke.

"Let me talk to her."

Kira looked sceptical.

"You think she'll agree to come back? Or is it that you want me to look the other way as you help her escape our notice?"

Yumichika said nothing and even though his posture was relaxed, cool, uninterested, there was a tension in the air.

Kira turned his back on the others and gestured at Hisagi.

"Shuhei, you're with me. Abarai, go with Rukia and Ayasegawa."

A fierce smile pulled at Renji's mouth as he realised that Kira was giving them a chance to find Sakura on their own, without supervision. Izuru glanced back at them, his face especially pale as a swath of moonlight fell across it.

"Check in at regular intervals, and don't do anything stupid."

Trying to hide his grin, Renji nodded, waiting until the two acting captains had disappeared from sight before turning to Rukia.

"You think we should speak to the brat?"

Rukia sighed, though a small smile made her face beautiful.

"Ichigo is probably sleeping but it wouldn't hurt to swing by in the morning. Maybe he's seen her recently."

Renji nodded. "Okay. And what about you, Ayasegawa?" His voice trailed off as he realised that the smaller man had vanished. He shook his head, crimson hair brushing against his neck.

"At least we won't have to deal with his moping, I guess."

Rukia, seeing Yumichika had gone, sighed.

"He hasn't been handling this well."

Renji rubbed at the back of his neck, seeming unconcerned.

"Eh, he and Ikkaku will patch things up. They always do."

"I wasn't talking about that."

Renji looked down at his friend in surprise.

"You're saying he's worried about Sakura?"

Rukia sighed at his naivety.

"Yes."

Renji frowned.

"But, he left her there. He made that decision. You think he regrets it?"

"I think," Rukia began as she started walking down the quiet street, "that a man's heart is hard to understand, particularly when it's heavy with emotion."

Renji scratched at his head.

"What?"

Rukia laughed, pushing at a strand of thick, dark hair that had fallen across her face.

"Nothing. Don't worry your pretty little head about it."

Renji scowled, pushing at the smaller Shinigami in playful annoyance before falling into step beside her. He glanced up at the sky, wondering if Sakura was nearby, and just why Yumichika, who had always seemed unflappable, was acting so out of character.

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Yumichika Ayasegawa walked along the silent street, eyes hooded and thoughtful. There was a stubborn set to his jaw, giving a steely look to his elegant features. Although a familiar face around Seireitei, no one really knew anything about Yumichika. If asked, people would describe him as quiet, arrogant, and, above all, vain. Labelled a narcissist, his name was associated with someone who thought a little too highly of themselves. The only other aspect of his personality that anyone was sure of was his loyalty to Ikkaku Madarame. In fact, the two officers were so inseparable, so rarely seen apart, that rumours had persisted about their relationship for years. They'd never bothered Yumichika, and Ikkaku, with his usual lack of awareness for things that did not interest him, seemed not to know what was being whispered behind closed doors, or joked about at night when the pair were not around.

Yumichika wasn't threatened by such silly chatter. What people didn't realise was that the women he _did_ see from time to time respected him enough to maintain their silence. His private life was not something he'd ever share, and he wouldn't apologise for his loyalty to his oldest friend. Sometimes, Yumichika felt as if Ikkaku was his _only_ friend, and it was for this reason that, when Sakura had burst into their life, stealing Ikkaku's interest, Yumichika had been resistant. He was smart enough to realise how important she was becoming to his friend, and that began to reassure him that maybe she could be trusted. As the first woman to join the 13th division in some time, and as the first woman to be seen so often with the seemingly untouchable pair, rumours had started about her too. Quietly, with care, Yumichika had put a stop to the worst of those. There were some lines you just didn't cross.

Walking aimlessly, though his stride appeared to have purpose, Yumichika, in a moment of surprising personal awareness, mused on how shocked people would be if they realised that, lately, he'd been having trouble looking in the mirror. He still loved to look at himself; to admire his pale skin, high cheekbones, glossy blue-black hair. Only now, he couldn't meet his own eyes. Their blue depths promised a truth he couldn't bear. Those eyes were filled with memories that he longed to forget: the feel of Sakura's hair beneath his fingers, the paleness of her skin; the smell of blood and scorched sand, and, above all, how she'd looked lying there on the cold ground when he abandoned her to her fate.

Why? Why had he done it? The question was etched into his mind now, the mere thought of it making his hands clench angrily; shamefully. When his diminutive vice-captain, usually so silly and childlike, had sobered suddenly and told them that Sakura had her own path to walk, separate from theirs, why had he believed her? Why had he been so quick to accept what now seemed like foolish gibberish? Why hadn't he realised that he could choose to abandon his own way and follow hers, as he had done so long ago with Ikkaku?

Yumichika's eyes darkened, his face glowing almost eerily in the low light of the moon. Was that his problem, he wondered? Had he become too used to following? When he'd met Ikkaku Madarame all those years ago, he had been looking for something to live for. He had been bored, aimless, useless. When he'd seen Ikkaku with his fierce appearance and focused need to fight, Yumichika had known instantly that here was someone who could lead him to great things. Joining Ikkaku had been easy. As long as the powerful, bald-headed man got to fight, he was happy, giving Yumichika plenty of time to sit back and watch the chaos. Following Ikkaku had been easy, too, and it had paid off. The fierce man attracted the attention of Captain Zaraki, and soon the odd pair were being inducted into the 13th division, known for the intensity and skill of its officers.

When Yumichika had decided to align himself with Ikkaku, he'd known the other man's needs would come first, and he had been fine with that. Following Ikkaku's needs, his wants, his desires, had kept life simple; it gave Yumichika the space he required and allowed him to operate independently when he grew restless or bored. But this way of living breeds complacency, and Yumichika had been almost blindsided by the introduction of Sakura; by the emergence of a new need, a new desire, in Ikkaku's world.

Was it desire that had ruined everything? He'd thought at first that his growing feelings for the odd young woman with long white hair and wide, violet eyes had nothing to do with her as an individual, and everything to do with her beauty. She was striking to look at, and when she laughed, it took his breath away. As he watched her grow closer to his friend, watched her start to align her life with theirs, Yumichika realised that he felt a lot more for her than jealousy or admiration. For a while, he'd tried to convince himself that it was just naked desire; that her closeness to them both had made it easy for him to want her. He'd really believed that if he could just bed her once, she would be easy to put out of his mind. Hadn't it always been that way before?

Yumichika paused his patrol, finding himself beside the park where Sakura always seemed to gravitate to when visiting Karakura Town. He gazed at it now, looking cold and distant as his mind played through his memories. Sakura _had_ been different. Kissing her had only made him want her more and maybe that was why he had been so eager to believe his vice-captain's melancholy words; so quick to trust that Sakura _had_ to walk alone, away from him. He had hoped it would make it easy to forget her.

But he couldn't, and it was changing him. The more he thought about how easily Ikkaku had cast Sakura aside, the more his rage grew. Despite his elegant, unruffled exterior, Yumichika had a wickedly short temper, though it had never persisted like this; it never burned at his insides and made him look at his oldest friend with something close to disgust. When Yumichika had heard that a new team had been assigned to look for Sakura, one filled with people that knew her and would be unlikely to harm her, he had asked to join them. Ikkaku had been furious, and the pair had quarrelled viciously, the fight ending only when Yumichika stalked from the room after breaking a mirror, the shards lying sharp and cold between them.

Looking out at the familiar park now, knowing it was dear to Sakura, Yumichika smiled, though it did not reach his eyes and gave his expression a look of melancholy. It was lonely out here on the other side of that mirror; lonely to be walking alone. Is this what he had condemned Sakura to? Is this why he couldn't bear to look into that unforgiving reflection?


	4. Chapter 4

Sakura ducked into the shadow of a tall tree, pushing herself against the bark until she could feel its roughness through her clothes. She cursed her foolishness once again. She'd been so overwhelmed when she'd felt Yumichika's spiritual pressure that she'd almost walked right into the back of Izuru Kira and Shuhei Hisagi. For a moment, seeing their familiar silhouettes in the darkness, she'd felt happy surprise; part of her wanting to raise a hand and greet them as she would have done not so long ago. The other part of her was deathly afraid. It was disquieting to feel fear when she looked at them, and for a breathless moment, she'd stared at the back of Izuru's head while her heart pound frantically in her chest and her brain came to a stuttering halt. Instinct took over, thank goodness, and she'd quietly slipped away, finding somewhere to hide.

Gazing out at the dimly lit street, Sakura placed a hand on her stomach where she knew the lines of the seal coalesced. It was strange to feel grateful for it, knowing as she did that it hid her reiatsu from the others. If it didn't have that effect, would she be dead by now? Crouching deeper into the shadow of the tree, Sakura frowned. Would Kira really execute her without trial? He had been her superior during her training, and she'd met with him socially on a number of occasions. How loyal was he to Soul Society and whomever had taken Yamamoto's place? Sakura's frown deepened as she darted across the street, heading between two large shops that promised good cover. Perhaps the fact that so many officers familiar with her had been despatched was a sign that those in charge felt differently about her? Was this a small ray of hope? She quickly squashed that thought, unwilling to trust that this was anything but a coincidence. They might have been her friends once, but not anymore.

As stealthily as she could manage, Sakura slipped between the two large buildings and headed down the dark alley, emerging onto a sparse residential street. It was well-lit, which was a problem, but she knew that past it, she would be closer to a commercial section of the town that was still under construction, and where she knew there would be ample hiding spots. Looking each way down the street, Sakura decided to take her chances and ran out. She was halfway along the road when she felt the reiatsu of the Shinigami coming up behind her. Concentrating, she was confident it was Kira and Hisagi again.

"Gods damn it." She swore softly, increasing her pace and trying to stick to the shadows. If they spotted her, they could catch her within the blink of an eye. It wasn't as if she could flash step anymore.

Promising herself she'd never do this again if only she could get away with it this one time, Sakura felt goosebumps break out on her skin as she realised that the two officers were growing steadily closer and would soon step out onto the well-lit street, easily seeing her as she ran along. Looking around desperately, trying to decide if it would be safe to duck into someone's garden, Sakura ran close to the edge of one of the houses, almost crying out when someone reached out from the darkness and pulled her against them. She struggled, her assailant's hand over her mouth muffling her shocked cries.

"Shut up."

A familiar voice sounded in her ear, and Sakura relaxed, letting Shinji Hirako pull her further into the deep shadow of the house, and watching with wide eyes as, but a moment later, Hisagi and Kira walked past them on the street. The sight of their familiar faces made a wave of melancholy fill Sakura's heart and she sagged back against Shinji as tiredness filled her. The two fugitives watched the officers walk past in silence and held themselves still until they felt their reiatsu fade.

Sakura bowed her head, trying to steady her breathing. Her heart was pounding and she felt like she'd just run a marathon. It wasn't just the lack of sleep, either; the sight of her old friends had cracked through her carefully cultivated, protective veneer of numbness, and she was feeling overwhelmed by the sudden resurgence of emotion and self-recrimination. Realising that Shinji still had his arms around her, Sakura stiffened, feeling colour rise to her cheeks. As embarrassing as it was to admit to herself, this was the first time anyone had touched her in four months and it was having a profound effect on her. It was. . . nice. She wondered, suddenly, who had held her last. A memory rose up and she swallowed. It had been Shunsui Kyoraku, captain of the 8th Division, and her father's oldest and dearest friend. He had been the one who'd spirited her away as a child, saving her from the mob that had killed her mother and, over time, he'd become her mentor and friend. After her escape from Hueco Mundo, he had come to visit her here in Karakura Town, to inform her of the General's murder and her fate. She'd cried when she'd seen his familiar face, and he'd held her until she'd found control. Remembering this now, Sakura wished she could hear one of Kyoraku's dirty jokes, finding herself missing his perverted humour.

As if he could read her thoughts, Shinji bowed his head until his thick mop of blond hair tickled her neck.

"So, pretty lady, you come here often?"

Pulling away with a sigh, Sakura turned to look at the tall Vizard, her reverie sharply broken. His grey eyes smiled down at her from beneath a heavy, bluntly cut fringe of thick blonde hair. As usual, he was dressed in a close-fitting suit, though in deference to the late hour his dark tie hung loose. Overall, he looked a bit like a rumpled runway model, if it weren't for his prominent teeth, which gave him a decidedly goofy look.

"Don't joke, Shinji." Sakura wrapped her arms around herself and shivered, eyes turning back to the road.

"You're kinda stupid, aintcha?" Shinji drawled, his voice light and playful. Sakura shrugged, running a hand through her short hair and trying to shake the strange sensation that had settled heavy in her stomach the minute she'd felt Yumichika's reiatsu.

Shinji leaned close, hands in his pockets, and peered at her face.

"You miss them, right? So, that means you made a decision yet?"

Sakura looked at him sharply.

"What?"

The tall man waved a hand, his expression suddenly bored.

"You've been hanging around doing nothing all this time. Not really one of us. Not really working. But tonight," he leaned close again, a sly smile pulling at his lips, "seems to me that something is different about you." He straightened and grinned. "So! You've made a decision, right? About whatcha gonna do?"

Sakura gazed at the odd man before her and realised that he was right. Somewhere along the way of this night of running and being visited by ghosts of the past, she _had _made a decision. She crossed her arms and gave Shinji an assessing look.

"Huh, you're smarter than you look."

The tall man chuckled softly before stepping forward, out into the light of a nearby streetlamp.

"C'mon, they're gone. Lets head back."

Sakura obediently fell into step beside him, and they walked in silence back to the abandoned factory. Once they'd stepped inside the barrier, Sakura stopped Shinji with a hand on his arm. He turned back to her and his grey eyes were hidden in the dim light. Sakura gazed up at him, her expression sombre.

"Thank you. For tonight. And the past four months."

Shinji smiled.

"Having a beautiful woman around isn't so bad."

Sakura shook her head, though she couldn't help a small smile.

"I don't believe that for a moment, Hirako." She touched the lines of the seal on her face self-consciously.

"You think I'm that superficial?"

Sakura smiled. "I think your agenda is something different; something I can't quite figure out."

She searched his face but his expression told her nothing. When he turned away from her, breaking her grip on his arm, she let him go. He stretched, running a hand through his hair and making a small, sleepy sound.

"Eh, it's too late for all this." He turned, catching her eye. "Let's chat tomorrow." And then he ducked through the small open doorway and disappeared inside.

Sakura stood for a short time, in the darkness, staring out beyond the spirit barrier to the town where her old friends, symbols of her previous existence, were searching for her.

"What is your intent?" She spoke to the sky and, receiving no answer, she allowed herself a small, wry smile before heading inside to her empty bed.


	5. Chapter 5

Shunsui Kyoraku gazed up at the blue sky of Soul Society, melancholy lending an old appearance to his ruggedly handsome face. The straw hat he usually wore lay beside him on the roof of his squad, and he crossed his arms behind his head as he reclined back. The edges of his elaborately embroidered pink haori shifted in the breeze. He was thinking back, as he had frequently in the past four months, to his last conversation with Jushiro Ukitake, his oldest friend and Sakura's father. Kyoraku had assisted Sakura in her plan to leave Soul Society and trade herself for Orihime, who Sosuke Aizen had effectively kidnapped right under their noses. When Jushiro had learned of this, he'd been furious, but it was nothing compared to his rage after general Yamamoto was murdered, the blame placed squarely on Sakura's shoulders. Kyoraku could still recall the look of hate in his friend's eyes, his handsome face twisted with fury as he was held back by his vice-captains. Kyoraku had never seen his friend so incensed, so out of control, and he'd stood silently, ready to accept it all. When Jushiro had finally managed to calm himself, he'd told Kyoraku to leave, and he had.

Four months had passed, and Jushiro Ukitake had been under house arrest all this time. He had been allowed approved visitors but Kyoraku knew he was unwelcome and had stayed away. Today, the restrictions placed on the pale captain were to be removed, and Kyoraku knew he couldn't maintain his absence. It was almost unbearable to leave things this way.

Shifting his position on the hard slats of the roof, Kyoraku scowled, his eyes gazing unseeing at the endless sky. Why had he agreed to Sakura's crazy plan? He'd thought about this often, and he'd come up with only one answer: he spoiled her, like an over-indulgent father. From the moment he'd raced into a distant corner of Rukongai, arriving only in time to snatch away a tiny Sakura from the mob that had already murdered her mother, he had been bound to her. He'd left her in the human world with a family he thought would care for her, and told himself that she'd fare better with no more Shinigami involvement. And yet he'd returned to the human world throughout the years to catch glimpses of her. He'd never stayed long and, as a result, he'd discovered too late how much she'd been suffering.

It was those glimpses that had been his downfall. Watching her grow up, in a series of brief encounters as still and quick as a photograph, had bound him to her forever. Even learning of how he'd failed her, dealing with that regret, had only made him love her more. She was Jushiro's only child; as precious to him as Jushiro himself. When he finally went to speak with her, Kyoraku had been startled by just how much she looked like his oldest friend. It wasn't just her hair or the shape of her face, either; even beneath the anger she wore about her like a protective mantle, he could see the grace and confident bearing of her father. Inside, she was soft-hearted and kind, and she'd proven that by accepting the truth of her origins and forging a relationship with her real father; not the one she had imagined.

Kyoraku still recalled the moment that would stay with him forever. Sakura had been training as an officer for a few months and was just beginning to settle into the routine of their unusual world. He had intended to visit Jushiro, stepping out into his spacious gardens to find that Sakura was there with her father. Jushiro was showing her one of the plants he tended with such care, and Sakura was reaching out a hand to touch a large blossom, the petals bowing under her fingertips. She had smiled up into her father's face and the picture of them there, gazing at each other with such fondness, had been like a light in Kyoraku's heart. At that moment, all his regrets had melted away, if only for a little while.

Sighing, sitting up and rubbing at his scruffy beard, Kyoraku knew that he considered himself a father to Sakura. He couldn't help it. It had so often felt like he'd helped raise her, even in a distant way, and, once she'd joined them in Seireitei, she'd come to him often for advice, or just to drink sake and talk. She brushed off his dirty jokes like they were nothing, and sometimes she even shared a few of her own. When she laughed, she looked just like her father, and Kyoraku knew he was becoming soft; spoiling her because he couldn't bear to tell her 'no'.

"Maybe I am a fool." He muttered to himself as he clambered to his feet. If he were honest, he'd been sulking these past four months; brooding so much that his usual carefree manner had been sombre enough to cause even his persistent vice-captain, Nanao Ise, to give him a wide berth. She'd taken over his duties as much as she was able, and he sent a small thanks to the gods for gracing him with such a patient and capable officer.

Dusting himself off, Kyoraku looked over Seireitei towards Jushiro's house. There was no point in hiding anymore, and he was tired of having no one he could talk to honestly. Jushiro's absence was weighing heavy on him. Donning his hat, Kyoraku flash-stepped across the roofs of the squads, landing easily in Jushiro's garden. He glanced at the tall front doors where two armed guards had stood until this morning. Pushing the doors open, he let himself in, a little surprised to find the house well-lit and welcoming. He'd expected Jushiro to have been brooding like he had.

"Hey, Jushiro!" He called into the large house, still moving forward as he headed to where his friend usually resided; a large, welcoming room filled with books and many places to recline and sip tea (or sake more often than not). Sure enough, this was where he found his friend. Kyoraku paused at the sight of him, surprise in his eyes. He'd expected the often sickly man to be faring poorly but, instead, found Jushiro in what appeared to be excellent health. His colour was good, his body clearly relaxed, and when he looked up at Kyoraku, a soft smile was on his face. That look of acceptance was enough to ease the tension in the darker man's shoulders and he came to sit before his friend, one hand already reaching into the cavernous sleeve of his kimono for the bottle of sake he kept hidden away on his person.

He poured them both a cup and, when Jushiro took it, looked his friend in the eyes and spoke frankly.

"I'm sorry, Jushiro."

The pale haired man nodded, his eyes soft.

"I know."

Kyoraku made a noise of surprise and relief, removing his hat and rubbing at the back of his neck with his free hand.

"I expected more yelling."

Jushiro smiled again.

"I'm done with yelling. It wasn't getting me anywhere." His brown eyes seemed to sparkle with mirth, and Kyoraku chuckled softly.

"I know that look. You have a plan, don't you?"

The dignified, handsome captain sipped his sake and closed the book that rested on his lap.

"No."

Kyoraku raised a dark eyebrow in surprise.

"No? Well, excuse me for asking but why exactly are you so damn relaxed?"

Jushiro Ukitake lifted his shoulders in an elegant shrug and finished his sake, placing the small cup on the ground between them.

"I've done a great deal of thinking, and I've decided to place my trust in Sakura."

Kyoraku paused, his sake cup halfway to his mouth.

"What?"

"I'm going to trust her." Jushiro looked at his oldest friend frankly. "Trouble might follow her around but she's accomplished a great deal, Shunhei. She's young and she's reckless but I feel as if she's stumbled onto something important. I have faith that she will see this through until the end."

Kyoraku mulled over these words, a smile slowly spreading over his face.

"That's mighty mature of you, Jushiro."

The pale haired man laughed.

"Maybe. Part of me, the part of me that is a father, wants to tear out my hair, scream, and chase after her. But, since I made this decision, I have felt calmer, stronger. Does that make any sense?"

Kyoraku nodded, his eyes hooded.

"Part of being a good parent is learning to trust your children."

"It hurts, though." Jushiro's voice was soft, quiet, his eyes turning to gaze out of the window. "I want to save her. I want that to be possible."

Kyoraku leaned forward.

"It is." He touched his friend's shoulder. "I have faith in her, too." He paused. "Even if she is a headstrong brat."

Jushiro looked at him sharply and then laughed, the sound bubbling out of him and making Kyoraku smile.

"Of course," Jushiro said as he went to stand, "now that I am free of suspicion, I do not intend to just sit here all day and expect fate to move in the direction I desire."

"Oh?" Kyoraku also got to his feet, gazing at his friend with a knowing expression.

Jushiro smiled.

"How do you feel about a little research?"

Kyoraku groaned.

"Again? Honestly, whatever happened to fighting?"

Jushiro's smile widened.

"You never liked to study."

"Eh, there's more important things in the world. Like women."

The pale haired captain laughed, patting his friend on the back.

"All in due time. For now, I have a hunch, and I'd like to satisfy it. Will you assist me?"

Kyoraku sighed long-sufferingly, though he went where Jushiro led. As always.


	6. Chapter 6

Sakura was dreaming, her subconscious taking her back to a long forgotten memory. She was a child again, around five years old; limbs chubby with youth, round face seeming to be filled with her large violet eyes. A small dress hung on her sleight frame, hanging down to her ankles as if she were expected to grow into it. Her feet were bare, as she'd kicked off her shoes long ago in order to climb the tree she was now perched in. Triumph gleamed in her young face as she clung to the gnarly tree trunk, the bark scratching her hands and feet, as she gazed out at Rukongai. Of course, she couldn't see much, considering she really wasn't very high, but to her five year old sight it was a treat to behold. She was king of the world; controller of all that she surveyed.

Just as she realised that she had no idea how to get down, a warm voice called to her.

"Sakura! My little cherry blossom! My little squirrel!"

Gazing down, a huge grin lighting up her young face, Sakura took in the sight of her mother. Pale, elegant arms reached up to her and she jumped with confidence, knowing they would catch her. Pulled close to her mother's breast, Sakura inhaled the familiar scent of her; a comforting blend of soap, warm skin, and the barest whisper of jasmine.

"Climbing trees again, I see."

Sakura beamed, cuddling closer to her mother's warmth. Those gentle arms, seeming impossibly strong to her child's mind, carefully lowered Sakura to the ground. Warm hands cupped her cheeks, and violet eyes, a mirror of her own, took over her world.

"Sakura, I know you have been following that boy again. You have to stay away."

Frustration filled Sakura's tiny body and she stamped a foot on the hard ground.

"But mama. . ."

"No 'buts'!" Her mother's voice was suddenly sharp, shocking Sakura from her sulk. Those beautiful eyes widened, darkening with an intense emotion that was beyond Sakura's comprehension.

"Listen to me, Sakura. You cannot play with him, or any of the others! You must stay away. Promise me!"

Sakura chewed on her lower lip, her tiny, pudgy fingers ringing together as she tried to avoid her mother's gaze. Those warm hands felt suddenly clammy as they gripped her shoulders and gave a gentle shake.

"Promise me!"

Sakura opened her mouth to promise, the urgency in her mother's voice scaring her, when she realised that, no matter how hard she looked, she could not see her mother's face. She raised her child's hands and pressed them to her mother's cheeks but still she could not make out her features. Panic filling her, Sakura clutched desperately at the warmth of her mother's body but even that was fading, disappearing into memory, until nothing was left but shadows and dust.

Waking with a start, Sakura pressed a hand to her eyes, shocked to find tears on her face.

"What a strange dream," she murmured softly before stumbling from her makeshift bed on the floor and preparing for the day. By the time she emerged, it seemed as if everyone else had left in search of something to occupy their time. Despite having lived beside them for four months, Sakura still had no idea what the Vizard did, or where they would go. Obviously, something was holding their interest.

Walking to the small room where they tended to eat their meals, Sakura was disappointed to note that most of what had been put out for breakfast had long since been devoured. The only inhabitant of the sparsely furnished room was Lisa Yadomaru, who looked as austere and unwelcoming as ever, her face almost hidden behind a large book. Sakura glanced at the cover as she went to where some okayu sat on the small stove, still warm. She hid a small smile as she realised that Lisa was reading yet more erotic manga.

Quietly, unwilling to disturb the severe older woman, Sakura seated herself on one of the worn cushions before the table and ate her breakfast quietly, her mind still occupied with her disturbing dream. Had it really been a memory? Or was it just a symptom of her anxiety? Eyes turned to the scarred tabletop, Sakura wondered if the boy was supposed to be Aizen. After all, wasn't he the source of her fear? She was sure it meant nothing, though she kept thinking of what her mother had said: "you cannot play with him, or any of the others". Others like Aizen? Who is he, anyway? It seemed to her like he was more than a Shinigami.

A cardboard cup of take-out coffee thudded onto the table before her and Sakura looked up in shock, broken from her reverie. Lisa stood over her, eyes dark behind her neat spectacles.

"Uh, thanks." Sakura managed a smile, taking the hot coffee and removing the lid so she could inhale its welcome aroma.

Lisa shrugged. "Shinji brought it. He said he hasn't forgotten about last night but had some business to attend to. He'll talk to you later."

Nodding, eyes thoughtful, Sakura took a sip of the steaming beverage. She had hoped she could speak to Shinji straight away as her sudden decision and ensuing plans were churning around in her head. No wonder she'd had a nightmare.

Lisa seated herself once more and returned to her manga. Sakura realised that she felt strangely comfortable in the Vizard's presence. Even if Lisa tended to be snappy and disinterested in others, there was something about her that was familiar, and she had been the only one willing to share a room with Sakura. Her gaze going distance, Sakura thought back to when Shinji had first brought her here. The other Vizard had not been pleased, and had voiced their complaints at great length. One in particular, Hiyori Sarugaku, had been furious. The tiny Vizard, appearing so childlike with her spiky blond pigtails and youthful face, had a temper like nothing Sakura had ever seen before, and she was used to spending most of her time with Ikkaku Madarame. The first time Sakura had encountered the Vizard, she'd witnessed Ichigo Kurosaki training with Hiyori, though it had looked a lot more like siblings fighting. Even though Hiyori was unreserved in her physical altercations (Sakura had lost count of how many times, since living here, she'd seen the small woman smack Shinji with her sandal, for instance), she had noticed the way she had controlled the full extent of her powers when sparring with Ichigo, a boy who, despite his age, sometimes terrified Sakura with his raw power.

Hiyori was definitely not someone Sakura wished to offend, and she had done her utmost since arriving here to be as unassuming and as distant as possible. That hadn't been difficult. The others largely left her alone, although occasionally Rose would sit and talk with her; nice safe topics that Sakura felt she could manage. She liked spending time with Rose, mainly because he reminded her of Kyoraku with his long wavy hair, frilly shirts, and elaborate style of dress. He had sleepy eyes that, combined with his appearance, made her think of a romantic poet. Sometimes he strummed a few tunes on his acoustic guitar, and Sakura would sing along, though her voice was nothing to speak of. If any of the others were present, however, she kept silent.

Despite her silence and willingness to take on the bulk of the menial chores, she knew that she was still causing ripples in the Vizard's isolated world. Nothing could have been clearer to her than the way Kensei Mugurama's shoulders tensed when he saw her, or the scowl on his face when she was referenced. Once, Hiyori even took a swing at her and if it hadn't been for Shinji's presence, Sakura thought that might have been the end of her. Sakura would retreat at such moments; trying to make herself invisible. Before, she would have been furious; would have railed against the situation and demanded respect. Now, weak as she was and utterly alone, she accepted the mistrust and the tension. Didn't she feel the same way? Wasn't she afraid of what the presence of others could mean for her? Didn't she worry that they might betray her or, worse, get close to her and fool her into believing she should trust again? It was easier to just keep her silence, put her head down, and let herself drift along, as aimless as a leaf in a stream.

She never spoke about her nightmares, or the terror she'd feel when she awoke in the middle of the night, remembering the feel of Aizen's fingers on her face, or the slice of one of his Arrancar's razor-like claws in her back. Sometimes she would awaken from dreams and memories so horrendous that she'd sit there, trembling violently, eyes painfully wide; unable to move or even blink. She never allowed herself to cry, though. She'd done enough of that. Sometimes she woke with tears on her face but she wiped the traitors away and squared her shoulders. Every night she was reminded of her past and of her current situation. Every morning she vowed to forget. Now, though, she was ready to act. Something had changed. Something was coming. She could feel it.

Lisa Yadamaru stood suddenly, shattering Sakura's reverie and causing her to blink as her mind returned to the present. She smiled at the tall woman, noting that today Lisa was not wearing her usual adaptation of a high schooler's uniform, settling instead for a simple kimono of black silk. Lisa nodded at her before turning to leave, though she suddenly paused in the doorway and looked back at Sakura over her shoulder.

"You're Ukitake's kid, right?"

Sakura blinked at the question but nodded. "Yes."

"So, you know Captain Kyoraku?"

Sakura looked down into her mostly empty coffee cup and smiled, her eyes softening as she thought of the flamboyant captain.

"That's right."

Lisa nodded, seeming satisfied, and walked away, leaving Sakura to frown at the place she had been, wondering what had prompted the question.

Sighing, the tall woman stood with a stretch, discarding her remaining coffee and pulling the hood of her t-shirt up so that it cast shadows on her face. It was approaching midday and she knew that the Shinigami officers would not be patrolling now. Knowing that she would soon have to leave Karakura Town, Sakura decided that there were some people she really needed to see first. Now was the time for goodbyes.


	7. Chapter 7

Orihime Inoue slid the small pins, shaped like flowers, into place, pinning her long auburn hair behind her ears. Her grey eyes took in her appearance and she nodded to herself. Her uniform was freshly washed and ironed, and her pretty young face was free of make-up, making her look neat and tidy. Her high school didn't have the strictest dress code but Orihime was a girl who liked to fit in.

Picking up her leather satchel, she threw it over her shoulder and stepped out of her small home, carefully locking the door behind her.

"Hello, Orihime."

The soft voice made her jump, and Orihime turned quickly, her heart in her throat. As her eyes took in the figure standing quietly in the pale sunlight of the morning, she took a quick breath.

"Sakura, is it really you?"

The older woman smiled, pushing her hood back so that it hung against her neck and shoulders. Her short white hair just brushed against her chin, and her eyes were warm with feeling in a face that looked a little too thin. She was dressed plainly and only the marks on her face would draw attention.

Orihime seemed to take all of her in with a quick sweep of her eyes and then stepped forward and embraced the taller woman. Sakura squeezed the teenager in response, breathing in her familiar scent. A lump threatened to rise in her throat and she swallowed it down, stepping back with a lop-sided smile.

"How have you been?"

Orihime shook her head as if this were an insignificant question."Fine, fine. And you? Have you been okay? Where have you been staying?"

Sakura smiled at her young friend's concern.

"I think it's better if I don't tell you that." She paused. "I've been fine, though. Just fine." It was a lie and Orihime knew it but the young woman had seen a lot in her sixteen years, and she wasn't about to push the subject.

"Do you want to come in? I can make tea."

"And make you late for school? No way." Sakura reached out and touched Orihime's arm gently. "I've come to walk you. You don't mind?"

Orihime beamed, looking truly beautiful.

"I'd like that."

The women quickly fell into step beside each other, Sakura raising her hood once more to obscure her face from passers by.

"Have you seen the others?"

Orihime didn't need to ask who Sakura meant and shook her head, sending strands of fine auburn hair flying out around her shoulders.

"Only my classmates."

Sakura nodded, shoving her hands deep into the pockets of her jeans.

"You should know that some Shinigami have come looking for me."

Orihime's eyes widened.

"They're still after you?"

Sakura turned and gazed at the younger woman, a frown creasing her forehead.

"How much do you know?"

Orihime mirrored her frown.

"Only what you told me when I saw you last."

"So you haven't heard then."

"Heard what?" Fear slowly filled Orihime's eyes. "Is everyone okay? Rukia and Renji?"

Now Sakura looked surprised.

"You haven't seen them?"

"Not since right after you disappeared."

"Huh."

Sakura touched her friend's arm to keep her walking and they continued in silence for a time; Orihime patiently waiting for Sakura to collect her thoughts.

"Rukia and Renji are fine. They probably haven't been to see you because Soul Society has been locked down."

"Why? Because of Aizen?"

"In a way." Sakura took a steadying breath and turned to face her friend squarely. "General Yamamoto was killed the day we were saved from Hueco Mundo. Everyone believes I did it."

Orihime came to a stop, her mouth a perfect O of surprise, and her eyes wide. When she finally spoke, her response warmed Sakura's heart and reminded her just why she could never let anything happen to the sweet young woman.

"You would never do that!"

Sakura smiled. "It's nice to hear that someone has faith in me."

Orihime suddenly grabbed Sakura's arms, making her jump. Her grey eyes intense, the auburn haired teenager leaned forward and spoke urgently.

"So the Shinigami after you intend to kill you?"

Sakura nodded, gesturing for them to continue walking. They weren't far from the high school now but she still didn't want Orihime to be tardy.

"I'm not sure if they're still supposed to kill me on sight, or take me back for a trial. Either way, they intend for me to be executed."

Orihime shook her head, anger clouding her eyes.

"Surely Rukia and Renji don't believe you killed the General?"

"I doubt they do but there's nothing they can do to prove my innocence." She considered telling Orihime about the illusion Aizen had created to fool Soifon but decided against it.

They were right by the high school now and Sakura halted her walk, turning to face the young woman.

"Listen, Orihime, I came to let you know what has been happening and to explain my absence. But I can't stay here. People are looking for me and I need to move on." Sakura reached out and touched her friend's shoulder.

"I just wanted to say thank you, again. You're a good friend. I hope you'll continue to be such for the people around you." She paused then turned away. "Goodbye."

"Wait!" Orihime grabbed hold of Sakura's hand and went to pull her back when a familiar voice called out.

"Takahashi?"

Sakura looked up to find Ichigo Kurosaki standing a few feet away. She'd been so wrapped up in her conversation with Orihime that she hadn't felt him approach. He was taller than the last time she'd seen him even though it had only been a few months, and his spiky orange hair seemed a little longer. His face was still that of a teenager but his eyes cast an older look to his features. He looked like a boy who'd had to grow up fast.

"Kurosaki." Her voice came out softer than she'd intended. Seeing him was like a shock to the senses. It often seemed to her like everything that had happened revolved around him somehow. He was stubborn and his temper was as spiky as his hair but he was also honourable and loyal. She hadn't intended to see him now and it took her a while to gather herself.

He slouched over in that way teenage boys have and gave her a wry grin.

"I thought you were on the run."

"I am." Her expression was serious. "It's really good to see you, Ichigo."

He gave her an odd look, glancing between her and Orihime who was still holding Sakura's hand.

"What's going on?"

Orihime spoke first.

"Did you know that General Yamamoto was murdered?"

His eyes widened.

"What? Are you serious?"

He glanced at Sakura and she nodded glumly.

"They're saying I did it."

"Huh." The tall teenager rubbed at the back of his head and then scowled. "That's dumb."

Sakura couldn't help but smile.

"Yeah. So no one's been in contact with you?"

Ichigo shrugged.

"I've felt Shinigami moving around at night but no one has come to see me. Rukia mentioned she might be gone a while when she and Renji took off, though."

Sakura nodded, opening her mouth to speak when she felt a sickening sensation in the pit of her stomach.

"Shit, gotta run." She started jogging backwards, waving at the bemused teens. "Thanks again, Orihime! Ichigo, take care! Tell the others I said 'hi'!"

"Hey, wait!" Ichigo went to go after her when a voice called to him from down the road. Everyone turned to see Rukia and Renji, ensconced in their gigai, walking towards them. Sakura swore under her breath, refusing to let her eyes linger on her old friends, before turning and running away. By the time the others approached, she was gone from sight.

"Was that just. . .?" Rukia's voice trailed off, not sure if she really wanted to know the answer. Renji, however, cursed loudly and took off after Sakura. Ichigo went to follow but Rukia touched his arm.

"Don't. He won't catch up to her. Not now."

"And if he did, what would he do?" Ichigo's voice was cold with anger and Rukia gave him an assessing look.

"I guess you've heard, then."

"Yeah, thanks for keeping me up to date."

The small Shinigami gazed up at the tall teen before smacking him upside the head.

Ichigo flinched, his cheeks reddening.

"What the hell?!"

"I don't see you for months and this is how you greet me? You still have no manners, Ichigo Kurosaki!"

He stared at Rukia with a mixture of confusion and anger before Orihime's soft laugh broke his focus. She stepped forward and hugged the petite Shinigami.

"It's so good to see you, Rukia. How have you been?"

Rukia pushed a dark strand of hair out of her deep blue eyes and faced her friends.

"We have a lot to catch up on. Come on, I'll walk you to class."


	8. Chapter 8

_Author's note: Sorry for the late update. Things might be slow for a while._

* * *

Renji Abarai ran along the road outside the high school, swearing under his breath. His gigai felt cumbersome and unnatural, no matter how many times he wore it, and, as usual, his fashion sense was a decade or so off. Although, with his long crimson hair and facial tattoos, the dated bell bottoms and band t-shirt just made him look like a slightly crazy hippy.

Darting round a corner into a residential street, he saw the flash of Sakura's pale t-shirt and increased his pace.

"Sakura! Damn you!"

He knew why she was running but it still infuriated him. Renji wasn't one to dwell on things that he didn't understand or couldn't change but he'd be damned if he'd let Sakura keep running away from Soul Society, and from him. Sure, they'd parted on bad terms and he'd been furious with her for some time but, ultimately, he couldn't stand the fundamental wrongness of her absence and the entire situation. Renji was a good soldier but ever since Ichigo had convinced him to question the rules he lived by in order to save Rukia all that time ago, Renji had seen the cracks in his world more clearly. Seireitei was a mess without the General, all thanks to the mistrust Aizen had so effectively spread amongst the squads. Even if the officers were loyal to their acting General, many of them still wondered about Sakura's guilt, and many more believed Aizen had far more influence on them than he had any right to. Everything was a mess and all Renji knew was that he had a job to do, both as an officer and as a friend.

Ahead of him, Sakura veered off the pavement between two shop fronts and Renji charged after her. As he swung around the corner, he saw a tall, lean figure ahead of him and his heart sped up in anticipation. As he drew closer, his pace slowed and he frowned. He recognised the figure before him but it wasn't Sakura.

"Abarai." Uryu Ishida, dressed in his school uniform, nodded politely at the tall vice-captain, though his blue eyes were cold beneath his neat, rectangular glasses. Renji scowled, glancing around him in frustration.

"Where did she go?"

"And who would that be?"

"Don't play around, kid! I saw Sakura run down here."

"Sakura?" Uryu tilted his head to the side as if he were bemused, his dark hair brushing against his neck as he did so. "No, I think I would remember if I had seen her. She disappeared shortly after we returned from Hueco Mundo, and I haven't seen her since." His eyes focused on Renji almost like a challenge. "Much to my regret."

Annoyed at the teenager's arrogance but unwilling to push the subject, Renji crossed his arms and regained his breath.

"Well, if you happen to see her around, tell her I want to talk to her. Unofficially."

Uryu nodded in cool politeness.

"Oh, and Ishida?" Renji turned to leave, calling over his shoulder, "you're late for school."

When he had gone, his reiatsu fading into the distance, Uryu walked to the end of the narrow alley and turned to a small space hidden behind the building. Sakura looked up at him from her crouch, her eyes wide.

"He's gone."

"Yeah." She climbed to her feet and dusted herself off before smiling at Uryu.

"Thanks for keeping him away. I don't think it's a good idea for me to talk to him. Not now."

Uryu nodded, pushing his glasses up his nose in a familiar, fastidious gesture. It made Sakura smile. Catching her eye, the teenager looked suddenly unsure of himself before hiding it behind his usual formal demeanour.

"Can I walk you somewhere?"

"No, thanks. You've done enough."

She almost went to leave but was held back by the need to speak to Uryu. He'd been instrumental in her rescue from Hueco Mundo, and she thought she might be dead right now if it weren't for him. He'd fought so bravely for her and Orihime, even though it went against his great Quincy pride to help anyone aligned with Shinigami. But they had something in common; his kind had almost been wiped out by Soul Society, and so had hers. She'd felt a bond with the boy since she'd first arrived in Karakura Town and the two had become involved with the Bount. She wished they were closer but Uryu was a hard nut to crack.

He looked at her with his cool blue eyes and Sakura saw the man he was to become. She hoped she'd have the chance to know him.

"Is it true that you're being blamed for Yamamoto's death?"

She glanced at him in surprise.

"How do you know about that?"

"Urahara."

"Oh." The mention of her old sensei made her heart beat a little faster. She wanted to ask how he was but was almost afraid of the answer.

"He's doing fine."

Huh, so now the kid was a mind reader. She smiled at him, her eyes a little sad.

"That's good. Listen, I should get going. I'm making you tardy."

Uryu nodded and went to leave but stopped suddenly and turned his face towards her. The sunlight shining between the buildings hit his face squarely, letting Sakura truly see the youth in his features. He might act like an adult, but he was still just a kid with a lot of experiences ahead of him. In his face, she saw uncertainty.

"Will you come back again?"

She knew what he was really asking and didn't quite know how to respond.

"I want to but things are starting to happen and I don't know what my future holds. Not anymore."

He nodded.

"Can I help?"

Of course he could, but she could never allow it. Not after all he'd done. Walking up to him, she touched his shoulder even though she knew it would embarrass him.

"Just keep an eye on that idiot Ichigo, will you?"

His eyes flashed and he smiled.

"Always. Take care, Sakura."

"You too, Uryu."

She waited until he'd started back to school before emerging from the alley and carefully glancing around her. The street was starting to fill now that the day was beginning. People were shopping, kids were rushing to school in a desperate attempt to beat the bell, and generally the world was going about its business. Sakura felt remarkably removed from it all.

Shoving her hands deep into her pockets, finding that she had some money on her, Sakura wandered to the small market that set up each morning a few roads over. She bought something to eat and drink, trying to ignore the way the seller stared at the lines on her face, and then found a quiet spot in which to think. She hopped up onto a small wall just out of the way of the market. A tall tree cast some shade and she settled back into the shadows and watched the citizens of Karakura Town as they went about their business.

"You shouldn't have gone to see them."

Lost in thought, Sakura almost choked on the dried squid she was eating when Shinji stepped in front of her.

"Damn it, Hirako, we need to get a bell for you!"

He smirked at her, hands in his pockets, and rocked back on his heels. He was looking particularly devilish in a neat grey suit and white cap.

"They know you're here now. After last night, I thought you'd have more sense to go out by yourself again."

Sakura sighed.

"Look, it was just Renji and Rukia. I doubt they'll even report it."

"You so sure of that?" His grey eyes were penetrating and she looked away.

"I guess not."

He hopped up onto the wall next to her and drank the last of her soda.

"Eh, not that it matters. We'll be outta here soon."

"Oh yeah?" She raised her eyebrows and tried to read his expression but he gave nothing away.

"Yeah. First, though, we gotta talk."

Sakura turned to face him, pulling one leg up, genuinely curious as to what he had to say.

"What's the deal with you and the Quincy?"

She blinked at this unexpected line of questioning, her hand flying up to the scar on her throat in a nervous gesture.

"He saved my life. I owe him."

"I think he has a crush on you."

Sakura made a face.

"He's a teenage boy."

Shinji leaned back on his hands and crossed his legs at the ankles, looking perfectly at ease.

"And Abarai? I'm sensing something a little hotter than 'just friends' there."

Sighing, Sakura shook her head.

"What's this about, Shinji?"

He smirked. "I'm just getting a feel for the competition."

She laughed incredulously. "I doubt that very much."

Silence fell between them and they both watched the passers-by going about their normal business. Sakura felt like she couldn't relate to them at all and wondered if Shinji felt the same.

"So, what's the plan?"

Sakura glanced at Shinji in surprise.

"You tell me."

"Nah. I wanna hear what you're thinking."

He was smiling but his grey eyes were cool and focused. Sakura sat up a little straighter and gathered her thoughts.

"I don't know how to stop Aizen. I'm not sure anyone does." She took a breath, speaking carefully. "But a few things are standing out in my mind and I think it's time we looked a little closer at his past."

When Shinji didn't interrupt, she pushed on.

"When I was being held in Hueco Mundo, the Arrancar tortured me. For fun, I'm sure. Aizen eventually asked me to join him but it was all just to mess with me; to make me doubt myself. But I was asked a number of times about my minimal investigation into Aizen's past. Considering that he fooled me with his Zanpakuto's unique illusionary properties, that is suddenly of great interest to me."

Shinji nodded.

"You've encountered him before."

"I must have, though I have no memory of it." She ran her hands through her hair in frustration. "My past is kind of muddled to me, especially now."

"So you're thinking there might be a clue to Aizen's downfall in his past?"

She sighed.

"Maybe not something as convenient as that but _something_ is there. Why else would he seem concerned with it?"

"To purposefully send you on a fruitless search?"

"Yeah, I've considered that."

She fell silent, turning her mind back reluctantly to her time in Hueco Mundo. Had he just been trying to confuse her? Perhaps. But how else could she explain the fact that she'd seen his zanpakuto release sometime before? They must have met sometime in her past, and no one had any knowledge of the encounter. That had to mean something. Right?

Shaking her head, she pushed on.

"Maybe this is just smoke and mirrors. All I know is it's the only lead I've got. I figure there might be some information about him at his family estate."

Shinji raised his eyebrows.

"You want to break into Soul Society?"

"Yeah."

"Well, okay!"

He jumped down from the wall and held out his hand to her in a gallant gesture. She ignored it and gazed into his eyes questioningly.

"Really? Just like that?"

He shrugged.

"The place is a mess thanks to the mistrust Aizen bred with the General's murder. I hear no one is sure how many of the General's men he influenced, and many of Seireitei's cells are full. People aint paying a lot of attention, right now."

"Huh." Sakura considered this and then smiled, finally accepting Shinji's outstretched hand and jumping down from the wall.

"You have any ideas as to how we're going to get in?"

"Sure I do!" He started walking and she hurried to follow.

"You want to share them with the class?"

He smirked, pulling his cap a little further down his head.

"You'll see soon enough. In the meantime, there's some stuff I should tell ya."

"Yeah?"

Shinji's eyes caught hers and she sobered at their expression.

"Yeah." Shoving his hands deep into his pockets, Shinji hunched his shoulders in a noncommittal slouch. "You ever wondered why the Arrancar and Vizard are so similar?"


End file.
